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    Summary

    Mitch cleared his throat a little awkwardly, and ran his thumb over Auston’s spit, kiss slick bottom lip. It was a little swollen. Fuck. He was so hot. How, even? “Do I look like a winner to you?”

    Auston seemed to pull himself together a little, licking his lips, and sucking his bottom one into his mouth, before chewing on it nervously, meeting Mitch’s uncertain gaze. “You always look like a winner to me.”

     

    --Post Game 7 Regret Smut--

    Series
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